


As The Silver Planets Run

by Sylphidine_Gallimaufry



Series: Tales of Nightmare Dork University [7]
Category: Nightmare Dork University - Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gift Exchange, M/M, NDU - Freeform, Nightmare Dork University, Nightmare Galleon, Rough Sex, Wardrobeverse, rotgsecretsanta2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry/pseuds/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry
Summary: The Nightmare King refuses to let the Boogeyman fade.





	As The Silver Planets Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jamie_Aizen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamie_Aizen/gifts).



> Written for ROTG Secret Santa 2017. Based on [this prompt](https://shorteststory.tumblr.com/post/165009981208/the-witch-said-that-as-long-as-i-stand-in-the-shadows) from The Shortest Story on Tumblr.

The grey-skinned giant stands impassively within the cavern, the tunnels behind him teeming with shadows that twist and twitch.  

Above the cavern, a village sleeps and dreams; above the village, distant stars wheel and march across a moonless sky, galaxies among them unseen yet glistening on the edge of the giant’s awareness.

It seems wrong for *him* to be the one to break the silence; his… other self?… his counterpart?... [what were they to one another?]... never seems… never _seemed_... to stop talking, pacing, gesticulating, hyperventilating…

Pitchiner smiles wryly.  What he wouldn’t give to hear Pitch wheezing in the tunnels behind him, determined to have the last word, his skinny shorter legs trying to catch up with Pitchiner’s longer and more muscled ones as the giant size-shifted at will.

What he wouldn’t give...

_“Little man, how useless you’ve become.”_

_“Dark and sinister imp, how annoying you’ve become.”_

Once upon a time, Pitchiner’s gloat of short-lived triumph had been countered nastily by one he thought he’d bested… the Cossack would-be wizard.  It did not escape Pitchiner’s sense of irony that he and Pitch had been tossing similar insults at one another in all the time they’d spent in the lair.

Time.  His perception of time was so different from Pitch’s.  Pitchiner saw long games and far-reaching consequences.  He’d learned patience, being trapped with a diamond dagger-point in his chest for ages uncountable.  Pitch’s view was linear, staccato, one ticking clock-strike after another.  Pitch needed everything NOW. **  
**

And when Pitch could not have what he wanted, and what it turned out that he NEEDED, Pitch diminished to the point of disappearance.  The Boogeyman now was a mere whisper on the wind, a fleeting half-caught image in the corner of the eye..

Millennia of existence, moments of heightened awareness.  Pitch had taught Pitchiner, completely unconsciously, to view time in moments rather than in aeons.

Moments the Nightmare King would lose, other than his memories, if he allowed Pitch to fade.

Holding Pitch in the palm of his hand and licking his cock from the base of the shaft to the tip, with an extra swirl of the tongue between and behind his balls.

Debating the concepts of the power of fear versus the idea of fear, said debate demonstrated with teeth and claws on couches and in beds and up against walls over the course of weeks.

The inexplicable delight that Pitch tried to hide under irritation and anger when Pitchiner first experienced a thunderstorm.

The startling display of almost-affection Pitch had shown him on a memorable occasion.  Pitchiner had come across Pitch sitting dejectedly with both his robe and skin in tatters, after yet another attack by the traitorous Nightmares he had once commanded, tears he could not hide streaming from his eyes.  Without thinking, Pitchiner had licked at the bloody wounds and scratches on Pitch’s back.  Pitch had looked back at him with a stunned and piteous expression before leaning in and extending his own long tongue to give Pitchiner’s nose a delicate lick in return.

Pitch’s bony hips cupped in Pitchiner’s lap, Pitchiner’s cock embedded in Pitch’s ass, Pitch’s gangly legs dangling over Pitchiner’s thighs as the giant bounced his favourite fucktoy up and down, listened to the curses and hisses as he milked Pitch’s cock in one hand and kept both Pitch’s hands trapped above his head in one of his own, Pitchiner biting and sucking between shoulder and collarbones in rhythm with his thrusts.  Pitch going boneless and limp as he came and screeching like a pinioned barn owl when the head of his cock became too sensitive.  Pitchiner being able to HEAR Pitch’s toothy smile, a smile Pitch would hotly deny, when Pitchiner released his own orgasm like an onrushing tide inside him. 

The pained looks Pitch would give him when Pitchiner interrupted his reading, when he came up with ploys to get him away from studious pursuits and into carnal ones. **  
**

Kisses that devoured, kisses that let one be devoured.  Thin-lipped kisses with teeth and tongues.  Hard kisses that thrilled, soft kisses that shocked.

These moments could not disappear.  Pitchiner **would not let** these moments disappear.

The giant turns on his booted heel and makes his way down the tunnel.

*************************

Snow whirled in the whistling wind and slammed into the windowpane with a vicious rattle, jolting Coz awake and sending Pitch flying off his chest and onto the living room floor.

“What THE FUCK?!? _Must_ you channel a horse and buck me off _just_ when I was getting comfortable?”

“Sorry, babe, let me give you a hand up”, Pitchiner said apologetically as he sat up on the couch and helped Pitch to his feet.  He then pulled the smaller man into his arms and buried his face in Pitch’s chest.  Pitch found himself in the awkward position of leaning over Coz’s head with no idea where to put his hands.  He settled for loosely crossing them over the athlete’s back and lacing his fingers together.  Not quite a hug, but a silent acknowledgement of the apology. **  
**

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Pitch’s own back started to spasm from the odd angle and he had to change position.  He wriggled cat-like out of the embrace and sat himself down unceremoniously on Pitchiner’s knees, facing him with a vicious glare.  “So… are you going to tell me about it?”

“Another nightmare,” Coz muttered.  “You died.”

Pitch sighed dramatically, disguising his concern under shades of sarcastic irritation. “What happened this time?” he bit out, dragging out the words huffily.

“I don’t know!  This was really, really weird.  I didn’t see you die this time, you… You were just… gone.  And I had to find some magic way to bring you back.  So there was this wizard, and he said something like…”

“Something like ‘if you stay right here at this spot in this cave until the end of Time, you can keep him alive forever’... was that it?”

Coz’s eyes narrowed. Pitch waited a moment before saying, “I’ve had that dream too.”

A long few moments passed and then Pitchiner spoke.  “I needed to get a dump truck and a pickaxe and transport the cave somewhere…”

Pitch interrupted, his words sounding like a litany or an incantation, “Stone by stone…”

“Shadow by shadow,” Pitchiner countered.

Without thinking, they both leaned in at the same time and bumped heads painfully.  Pitch scrambled to his feet and hissed, “If we’re going to inflict mutual injuries upon each other, can we PLEASE do it in a horizontal position that isn’t as narrow as this hell-couch?”

The dangerously sentimental moment had passed.  Coz bared all his teeth in a frightening, yet winning smile and replied, “My, you’re insatiable lately, dear.”

“As long as it keeps you believing in me, DEAR.”


End file.
